


turn around bright eyes

by bitchasslowry



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, Clothes Sharing (?), Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, oblivious idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchasslowry/pseuds/bitchasslowry
Summary: He gets a text from Dom first, then his brother, then hismomand then finally he gets told by Alex who nearly sprinted into the living room where Adam is lounging out, watching the same episode of Black Mirror he’s watched a million times.“What the fuck-““He’s wearing number twenty seven, Boqer.Twenty. Seven.”
Relationships: Adam Boqvist/Kirby Dach, Background Alex DeBrincat/Dylan Strome
Comments: 5
Kudos: 84





	turn around bright eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a list of people: Q, Kira, Ann and Sophia who all really wanted this after we all screamed (some separately) about Kirby wearing Adam’s number on Team Canada. Have this mess of a fic.
> 
> Once again, if you found this by searching your name please turn back now. Don’t get me wrong, big fan, but for my sanity and yours let’s call it even and we’ll move on and pretend this never happened okay?
> 
> Not beta’d, we die like men at midnight.

He gets a text from Dom first, then his brother, then his _mom_ and then finally he gets told by Alex who nearly sprinted into the living room where Adam is lounging out, watching the same episode of Black Mirror he’s watched a million times. 

“Boqer, for the love of god, answer you fucking _phone_ ,” Alex groans, throwing a pillow in Adam’s direction. “You’re on it almost all the time, but now you decide to take a break? I can't do this.”

Adam flips his phone over to see the screen after shooting Alex a dirty look, when suddenly he sees the plethora of text messages flooding the screen. There’s one from almost every close friend and relative he has and they all surround the same topic. Kirby. 

“What the fuck-“

“He’s wearing number twenty seven, Boqer. _Twenty. Seven._ ”

Adam clicks on a link that Jesper sent him with a little caption under it “dude he’s in love with you” and it takes him straight to twitter. He ignores the second message.

And there he is. All of Kirby in his six foot four, Canadian glory looping around the ice with a big black 27 plastered to the back of his jersey.

“It’s just a number, Brinks.”

He scoffs and throws his head back onto the couch cushions. “You’re so oblivious, Jesus Christ. He wears 77, and only wore 17 once in his entire nineteen years of living. So why now all of a sudden he’s wearing 27, hm?”

There’s radio silence from Adam’s end of the couch, the clip of Kirby running on an endless loop on his phone screen. Alex smirks to himself. 

“You know, I used to watch Dylan’s highlights all the time when he went to Arizona.”

“I don’t want you to finish that thought,” Adam says, scrunching up his nose at the idea of where his brain went with the rest of this conversation. 

“You’re gross. No, it’s because I missed him. I also used to wear his Erie jersey because I got sad not seeing him for so long.”

Adam blinks a couple times at the older man, eyebrows raised and nodding his head slowly for effect. 

“And you’re telling me you just got with Dylan _last year_?”

“Shut up, this isn’t about me and my sad love life circa 2016. This is about how your boy is wearing _your_ number.”

Adam takes a moment and thinks while watching the screen in front of him dim and eventually go black. He figures that it’s no secret that him and Kirby spend a lot of time together. Like, a lot of time. They Facetime nearly every night and it’s always so fucking _fond_ that the internet went insane even at a small taste of their calls. 

It’s also no secret to himself that he’s regularly thought about wanting more. But he’s just learned to push down those feelings and tries with every possible method to suppress acting on them. 

Alex coughs and shoves his phone towards Adam. “I’m not the only one who sees this shit.”

It’s an open screen on the Tumblr app, one of Alex and Dylan’s secret pass times that honestly makes the rest of the team laugh. But Adam hates to say that for once in his life, he’s curious. 

Alex had pulled up Kirby’s tag and once Adam gets the phone secured in his hand, he starts scrolling. Photos of Kirby in his Team Canada jersey pop up as well as a few text posts. It’s the tags that grab his attention. 

_#dachvist_

_#they’re so in love it’s sickening_

Adam can’t help but imagine what it would actually be like with Kirby. Not as in being with him in the same city as him, but in a romantic way. The way that people write him and Kirby together in the random links to ao3 that Dylan sends him. The way that makes him want to curl up next to Kirby and press feather light kisses onto his jaw before he finally caved in, scooping Adam up and pulling him into-

Fuck. That’s, like, totally what Alex is trying to say. 

There’s a moment of silence where Adam just blankly stares at the wall in front of him, eyes no longer fixed onto Alex’s phone. 

“I have to call Kirby.”

“Fuckin’ right, you do.”

-

He picks up almost instantly and Adam’s heart thuds fast and hard in his chest. God damn Kirby looks good. 

He has clearly just gotten out of the shower, hair still half wet and sticking up and cheeks a little extra red because he’s a psychopath who likes the water almost so hot that it burns him. Who the fuck even does that?

“Hey Boqer! What’s up?” 

He’s so happy all the time, especially around his Swedish counterpart, that it makes Adam undoubtedly giddy every time he flashes one of his contagious smiles his way. Kirby’s eyes go all squinty when he smiles too, which just makes Adam’s stomach do this flip-flop thing that he really sometimes does not appreciate. 

“I saw the videos of you at practice today,” he starts, only the smallest hint of a smile left on his face. Some of his hair flops down onto his forehead and he momentarily thinks about the time he asked Kirby if it looked good. Why? Why must he put himself through self inflicted pain about his big fat crush that he hasn’t really even admitted to yet?

“Oh god,” Kirby groans. “We looked so stupid out there by ourselves.”

“Uh-“ Adam knows that Kirby won’t mention the elephant in the room, so he’ll have to take matters into his own hands. “What was your whole number situation about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Kirbs, you’re number 27 on Team Canada now.”

He looks beyond confused. “Yeah? And?”

“You’ve never worn 27.”

“Times change, Adam.”

Kirby’s smirking ever so slightly and Adam scrambles to find the correct words. 

“Kirbs. That’s my number.”

“Exactly.”

Ah, fuck.

“So you picked 27 because it’s my number?”

He shifts around on the other side of the screen to now be a little more comfortable laying face down on his bed, arms wrapped around a pillow and chin resting in the soft fabric covering it. Adam just watches. 

“Boqer, you’re like, really special to me. I’ve never met anyone like you before and I…” Kirby trails off, huffing and shoving his face into the pillow. “I thought it would be nice to have like, a piece of you with me all the time. So I’m using your number.”

They both stare at each other through the screens for nearly a minute, both processing what was just said; even though it seems like a decently minor confession. 

Adam feels this bubbling sensation take over his body, his fingertips tingling ever so slightly. “Kirby?”

“Yeah?”

“This is a long shot, and uh, tell me if I’m reading everything wrong, but when we finally see each other again would you like to go out for dinner?”

Kirby’s face goes bright red. Like, Hawks or Team Canada red, and Adam panics for a moment. 

“Like with some of the guys or…”

“No. Just us.”

Adam holds his breath, but when Kirby nods his head the tiniest bit it feels like the weight of the world is finally lifted off of his shoulders. 

“If I knew that wearing your number is all it takes for you to do that, I would have stolen one of your hoodies a _long_ time ago.”

Adam smiles big back at the screen before reaching beside him to the nightstand where some of his laundry sits, still needing to be put away. 

He holds up a black hoodie with the Hawks logo on it and of course, the number 27 crested on it. 

“If I shipped this to Canada do you think you’d get it soon enough to wear it to practice?”

Kirby smiles, nods and places his chin in his hand. His eyes are fond and he sighs almost in relief. Adam on the other hand is absolutely beaming and thinking of the quickest way of sending a package over the border. 

Neither of them are quite sure what any of this means for them, but all Adam knows is that he’s going to want to see Kirby in his number a lot more from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> And in case i don’t see you again: good afternoon, good evening and goodnight.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @bitchasslowry


End file.
